Companions
by Frosted Failure
Summary: In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves, one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people. Featuring Arwen, Aragorn, and Legolas. (Abandoned)
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I, sadly, can claim nothing other than the creativity that I put   
into this and any original characters that may emerge. The rest of   
Middle-earth and its inhabitants belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and associates.  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they   
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
  
  
Companions  
Prologue  
  
The elven people came to Middle-earth and accepted it as their home. However,   
when the race of man entered into being, they grew to fear the power, grace,   
and beauty of the elves. They thought that the elves held themselves high   
above the other inhabitants of the world, and men felt that they should be   
shown the error of their ways. Men thought themselves to be the superior   
race, and that elves, with their immortal-like life, should serve not only   
Middle-earth, but men as well. With careful planning, the high lords in the   
lands of Gondor, Rohan, and many others started deepening the hatred their   
people felt. For some it took little convincing, while some never agreed to   
take part. A large army was forged within the land of men, and with a cry   
akin to that of the thunder of the gods they rode forth.  
  
They fell upon the elven cities like a great wave, destroying all that lay in   
their path. Those that were not killed and who failed to escape were taken   
prisoner. At the end of their rampage only a fourth of all elves were free.   
Some fled across the countryside and over the Misty Mountains, while others   
took shelter in the forests of the north, hoping to at last find peace.   
Sadly, their prayers were not yet to be answered, for the men continued to   
come for them, just not in the same force. Small groups scoured the world   
over searching for the focus of their hatred.   
  
The prisoners were taken back to the lands of men and treated horribly. They   
were clothed in rags, sold as slaves, and forced to work under terrible   
conditions. If they failed to rise to the wishes of their master, the men   
were allowed by law to punish them as they saw fit, unto the point of death.   
Luckily for the elves, many saw it better to sell their old slaves in order   
to purchase new ones, therefore sparing the lives of many.   
  
This continued on for centuries, with few changes in the attitudes of men.   
They still, after nearly two thousand years, hated the elven race, but at   
this point in time many knew not how this had come to pass. They knew only   
that this was how it had "always" been, and many considered it foolish to   
break such traditions.   
  
There were some, though, who did not see things in this manner. They knew the   
elves as they truly, a people of the earth who wanted nothing more than to   
live in peace and celebrate the wonders of life. These people helped the   
elves in what ways they could. Some were helped to escape their masters,   
others placed in more comfortable environments.   
  
Those that managed to leave the land of men raced to what remained of their   
people. As time passed, the number of free elves grew as did their power and   
strength. They planned their revenge over the course of centuries, gathering   
their forces in hopes of one day releasing their people from the cages they   
were forced into.  
  
That is where this tale begins...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Yes, I know, there are MANY differences and MANY holes in the history of   
Middle-earth. I have not read most of The Silmarillion, only bits and pieces,   
but I know that things were very different than what I described. However, I   
ask that you let that slide. This is, after all, a story created only for   
enjoyment, and how can one enjoy something when constantly searching for   
flaws?  
  
I would really like to know what people think. It's a strange idea, I   
realize, but I feel that it has potential, though it may not be realized in   
full while in my hands. But please, just a few words is all I'm asking. Tell   
me if you think I should continue or leave it to collect dust as so many   
others have been.   
  
Nathronoelei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
March 18, 2002 


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I, sadly, can claim nothing other than the creativity that I put   
into this and any original characters that may emerge. The rest of   
Middle-earth and its inhabitants belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and associates.  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they   
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
A/N: Elvish words are in - -, and translations will be posted at the end of   
the chapter.  
  
Also, I'm HORRIBLE at writing battle scenes, so please try to look past it.   
  
  
  
Companions  
Chapter One  
  
The trees were once again in their golden state in the land of Lothlorien,   
leaving all who gazed upon them in awe of their splendor. A girl, young in   
measure of elves but already surpassing the lifespan of Men, walked with her   
grandmother among the great towers of beauty, taking joy in the happiness of   
those around them. As they spoke of the girl's home, to which she would soon   
be returning, an elven guard ran towards them.  
  
"My Lady!" the man exclaimed as he came to a halt, bowing quickly. "A great   
army of men approaches. They are those we have had word of, and I beg you,   
come quickly!"  
  
A cry was heard coming from deep within the woods, and the elves could hear   
the sound of hooves against the ground. The voices of Men screamed in anger,   
and the woman turned to the young girl beside her.  
  
"Find your father and tell him of this if already he has not heard. Move   
quickly, my child, for time fades. Go now!"  
  
With these words echoing in her mind, the girl sprang forward. Her elven   
abilities allowed her to run at a speed that few men had ever accomplished.   
When she came upon her father he was being told of the recent events.  
  
"-Ada-, let me help. I can fight with the others," she pleaded, praying that   
he would agree.  
  
"You are still but a child," her father said, raising a hand to ward off the   
usual response that she gave him to the statement and smiled slightly as he   
continued, "and yet you hold inside you wisdom beyond your few years. If you   
feel you are ready, you may take up your sword, but stay near your brothers   
and pull back at the slightest indication of capture. Understand?" he asked,   
looking into her eyes to guage her reaction. What he saw caused pride to   
grow within his heart for his only daughter. She understood what was   
happening and was prepared to fight for her people's safety, no matter what   
the cost.  
  
The elf nodded and raced away to her room. She hurried to the chest at the   
foot of the bed and lifted the lid, her fingers brushing against the   
carvings. Taking out the sword, she unsheathed it, nonce again taking a brief   
moment to admire its craftsmanship before dashing off.   
  
"-Muinthel!-"  
  
Turning towards the voice she saw her brothers signaling to her. They ran   
together to the entrance of the city, where the battle was already raging.   
Men atop horses swung their blades at the elves around them, but soon   
dismounted when they realized the real fight would be on foot. Elven archers   
fired upon the humans from their positions in the tall trees, striking many   
with their accurate skill.   
  
The girl and her brothers rushed into the battle, fighting side by side.   
They had often practiced together, perfecting silent signals, and therefore   
they were able to anticipate the other's actions. They worked as a team,   
quickly felling many of the intruders. The elves begans to think that fate   
was in their favor when suddenly cries errupted from the forest. An army   
three times that of the first emerged from the treeline. Swords clashed,   
arrows sang, and axes flew, but the elves were not prepared for a battle of   
this magnitude. Many fell under the great weight of Men, others fled or were   
captured.   
  
As the girl lost sight of her brothers and realized that the elven people   
would not win this fight, she felt arms wrap around her small form and throw   
her to the ground. She jumped up and faced her attacker, her sword flying   
towards his. They met with crash after crash, each meeting the other's blows   
with equal force. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, an arrow appeared, its path   
leading straight to her heart. Her body twisted to avoid it, but not soon   
enough. A scream tore itself from her throat as the arrow buried itself deep   
within her chest. A darkness began to work its way across her vision, and   
she felt herself falling. The last thought she had before the arms of   
oblivion took her was, 'I have failed...'  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
"Elf. Elf! Wake, you impedent creature!"  
  
She jolted awake. As her vision cleared, she saw her master towering above   
her. Quickly she rose, the haunting dream of her capture forgotten as his   
ever harsh tone told her that she was about to be punished.   
  
"You think you have the privledge of waking when you please? Next you'll   
start believing that work is an option and you have rights! Hah! You are a   
slave and a poor one at that. I feel rather sorry for the man that has   
purchased this wretch that stands before me," her master spat, his hand   
striking her face. Her weak body slammed against the wall as he hit her   
again and again, taking out his rage at the world on her.   
  
The woman was used to it. She had been the 'property' of this man and his   
large family for half a century. Before that she had been sold every few   
years, after they had "gotten tired of seeing her face" as they had put it.   
She had grown used to being a slave, and took the 'punishments' without   
complaint. It had been nearly two thousand years since she had known anything   
else, and had lost all hope of ever knowing freedom again.   
  
The man stepped back, breathing heavily. He walked to the door and stood   
there, looking down at her. "Come."  
  
She rose slowly, her body screaming in protest at the movement. Adjusting the   
rags that were her only clothing, she followed him out of the dark windowless   
room that they locked her in each night.   
  
Her master stopped before a door and told her, "Wait here." As he stepped   
inside, she could hear that someone else was in the room, and she stepped   
closer so as to hear what they were saying.   
  
"My Lord, are you sure that you want to sell this elf? It has been with us   
for many years, and I find it rather suspicious that Lord Raklend requested   
this one in particular. Why would he not want to buy to a newly captured   
slave instead of one that is old and weary?"  
  
"The Lord is purchasing the slave for his son. Apparently, the boy has been   
complaining of having no other to speak with, and thought that and elf would   
be and ideal companion. The man decided that he wanted an old slave since   
the boy has little experience dealing with them."  
  
"But, my Lord..."  
  
"Enough! My decision has been made. We set out immediately. I have business   
in the city that I shall attend to after presenting the elf to Raklend."  
  
The last few words said were too low for her to make out and she knew that   
the conversation was coming to a close. As the door began to open she stepped   
back quickly.   
  
"Come," he said to her once again. They set off down the long hall. As they   
reached the door that would take them outside, he took a long pice of rope   
from the pouch at his hip and tied her hands behind her back. His aged   
fingers tied the pieces into a knot tight enough to rub her skin raw if left   
that way for long, which she knew it would be. They were going outside, a   
privledge she had not been allowed in all the time she had been there. Men   
knew that elves loved nature and took strength in being around it, and so   
many kept their slaves locked away inside their homes where they would grow   
weak and not fight back. Her master knew that she would gain some of her   
strength back as they journeyed, even though she would be made to walk as   
the man rode.   
  
He was afraid, she realized. Afraid that she would be able to fight him and   
win. 'Well,' she thought to herself, 'he doesn't have to worry about that.   
I no longer the will to fight.'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Well, what'd ya think? Have I totally messed this up yet, or do I still   
have hope left? Should I continue or abandon? PLEASE let me know. Thanks!  
  
  
Ada = Father  
  
Muinthel = Sister  
  
  
Nathronoelei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
March 25, 2002 


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I, sadly, can claim nothing other than the creativity that I put   
into this and any original characters that may emerge. The rest of   
Middle-earth and its inhabitants belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and associates.  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they   
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
A/N: Elvish words are in - -, and translations will be posted at the end of   
the chapter. However, my resources are ratehr limited, so if I cannot find   
the Elvish words for something, I'll just put the entire phrase in * *.   
Please make due, and I'll try to translate everything at a later date.   
A poor fanfic writer is only capable of so much. LOL.  
  
  
  
Companions   
Chapter Two  
  
The sun was just beginning to set when the two reached their destination. The   
woman was weary from walking, while the man was angry at having to journey so   
far out of his way. The only thought that soothed this anger was that of the   
money he would receive for the slave.   
  
They approached a great house, one whose walls looked to have seen many years   
and been scarred badly by the winds of time. To her delight, the elf saw that   
the home was surrounded by a great many trees, and had a beautiful garden to   
the sides. She was startled out of her thoughts by her master's tug on the   
rope around her neck. He had placed it there as further "precaution", and had   
found it amusing to pull on it at different times during their journey.   
  
The man reached for the door and was surprised when it opened. A human girl   
stood framed in the doorway. Bowing her head slightly, she moved aside so as   
to allow them to pass. 'A servant,' the elf thought to herself as she   
followed her master inside.   
  
The stepped into a great hall lit by many candles and lamps. Paintings lined   
the walls, depicting scenes from history, a few that the elf remembered   
hearing of from her father.   
  
The sound of footsteps caught her attention and she turned to face the set of   
stairs that stood at the end of the hall. A middle-aged man with dark hair   
and eyes walked towards them, followed by a boy who looked to be near the age   
of twenty. Both moved with a grace akin to that of the elves and were dressed   
in shades of dark blue and black. The elf studied them, taking in all she   
could with the few glances curiosity allowed. Just as her eyes were wandering   
to the boy, taking in his dark hair and striking grey eyes, she was pushed   
down to her knees.  
  
"Show respect for your new masters elf!" Speaking to the man and boy he said,   
"It'll be no trouble to you, but if ever it is, force has always been a good   
tool on slaves."  
  
"I know all about the methods used on slaves, Herresh," Lord Raklend replied  
in a cool voice laced with power. "Here is your payment. Now be on your way,   
for I am sure you would rather to be in town ere full dark sets in."   
  
Herresh looked suspiciously at the lord for a few moments before grabbing the   
offered purse. Turning to go, he gave one last hard kick to his former slave,   
sending her to the floor, then dashed out the door.   
  
Lord Raklend sighed deeply, shaking his head as he closed the door behind   
Herresh. He walked over to where the elf still lay. He reached down and put   
his hand to her shoulder, but quickly pulled it back when he felt her flinch   
at his touch. Hesitantly he knelt down beside her, beckoning his son over in   
the process.   
  
"This is my son, Aragorn," he told her. "He will show you where you can clean   
up. After that, we'll have a look at your injuries, alright?"  
  
Slowly she raised her head to look at the man, then his son. In a voice that   
was so low that they almost didn't hear it she asked, "Why?"  
  
Raklend reached out his hand and helped her to her feet saying, "I have   
always had a deep respect for the elven people and as long as you are here no   
harm will befall you. I had hoped that you could provide companionship for my   
son. Our home is so far away from the towns that he is often left on his own   
whilst I am away. Do you think you could manage that?"  
  
The elf looked at him in awe. 'Can this be true? Have I truly found someplace   
where I will be punished for what I am?' She searched their faces for some   
sign, but upon finding none she gazed at the room around her. It didn't seem   
to be possible that these kind of people who bought slaves could really treat   
them well. 'It must be a trick they play,' she decided. 'They lead you to   
believe that you will be safe, and then prove themselves false.'  
  
She sighed, nodding, and the two men smiled warmly. The younger, Aragorn,   
beckoned her forward. Placing his hand at the small of her back, he led her   
up the stairway and through another hallway to a large bathing room. He   
handed her a package saying, "I hope that this fits. We had to guess what   
size you would be, but I think we came fairly close. Everything you need is   
already there. When you are finished, come down to the main room. There is a   
hall next to the stairs. The second door on the right leads to the library,   
you'll find me there, and we'll see what we can do for you."   
  
He turned to leave, but stopped after a moment, facing her once again. "One   
more thing. What is your name?"  
  
The elf looked at him for a second, then cast her gaze to the floor. She   
struggled with her memory to produce the name that she had bore for so many   
years, but finally been forced to leave behind. Finally it resurfaced along   
with many memories of family and childhood friends. She pushed the memories   
back, knowing that they would only cause more pain if brought forth now.   
  
Aragorn studied the elf and waited for her to answer his question. So long   
was she in thought that he wondered if perhaps she had forgotten him. He was   
just about to ask her agin when he heard her reply. A smile once again crept   
onto his face as he heard the beautiful voice speak her name, and it did not   
leave him for a long while after he left the room as the word echoed in his   
mind.   
  
"Arwen."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: I know you're probably wondering, What the hell is she thinking? Aragorn   
is supposed to be heir to the throne, Arwen is Elrond's daughter how'd she   
end up here, blah blah blah... Believe me, I realize the hole I have dug   
myself into, and you look very tall from this posistion. LOL. All will,   
hopefully, be explained in the future.   
  
So, how bad was it exactly? Feel free to tell me by clicking the little   
colored box at the end of this chapter and depositing any comments that may   
be lurking in the back of your mind. Just try to leave the cobwebs behind k?  
  
Hopefully I will use my few remaining days of spring break for writing time  
and get the next chapter out before I have to go back to the pit of fire   
that is my school. Let's all cross our fingers and hope. LOL.  
  
  
Nathronolei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
March 28, 2002 


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I, sadly, can claim nothing other than the creativity that I put   
into this and any original characters that may emerge. The rest of   
Middle-earth and its inhabitants belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and associates.  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they   
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED!!!! I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!  
  
A/N: Elvish words are in - -, and translations will be posted at the end of   
the chapter. However, my resources are ratehr limited, so if I cannot find   
the Elvish words for something, I'll just put the entire phrase in * *.   
Please make due, and I'll try to translate everything at a later date.   
A poor fanfic writer is only capable of so much. LOL.  
  
Okay, this chapter concentrates mostly on Arwen and her reactions to the new  
environment. I know that I totally messed with some of Tolkien's plot, but  
I couldn't have kept it the original way and had the story work, so I'm   
about that. If you just look past that, I hope you will enjoy the story. LOL.  
Hope is the key word there.  
  
  
  
Companions  
Chapter Three  
  
Arwen stared after the boy and uttered a sigh of relief when he closed the   
door behind him. Turning, she was met with the sight of a steaming hot bath.   
The water seemed to call out to her, as if it were the great sea that lay   
beside Gondor.   
  
With quick motions she removed the rags that she had worn for years, watching   
them fall to the cool floor. Picking them up with gentle fingers, she set   
them off to the side with the mysterious package. For a moment she toyed with   
the idea of opening it, then decided against it, saying to herself, "After I   
am clean."  
  
She slid into the warm water, gasping at the wonderful feeling of it on her   
skin, like a sweet caress. Finding a cloth and soap resting on the edge of   
the bath, she began to lather it upon her body. She ignored the stinging   
sensations that were brought forth when she touched one of the many cuts or  
bruises that had been part of her "punishments", she concentrated only on   
once again being clean. Much of the soap went towards washing her hair, which  
was matted and in clumps. Ducking under the water, she felt like crying out   
in happiness. It was such a wonderful feeling to have what seemed to be   
centuries of grime suddenly lifted. It was almost as if she was being born   
all over.   
  
Satisfied that she was as clean as she would get tonight, she stepped out.   
Looking around, she found more cloths to dry herself with and a brush for   
her hair. Taking it up, she began working the many knots and twists out the   
long locks. Finally, after what seemed like hours, it lay about her in   
straight waves, coming nearly to her knees. It would have been much longer   
had it been free to grow as it pleased.  
  
A memory of her grandmother filled her mind. She was brushing Arwen's hair,   
then coming only to her shoulders, and from her lips came a sweet song in   
their native tongue. Galadriel would often sing to her granddaughter, usually  
songs that she had sung to her mother when she was young as well.  
  
The slight smile that had found its way onto Arwen's face faded at the   
thought of her mother. When she had been but a child Celebrian had gone into  
a state of utter depression. To her family it seemed that just lost the will  
to live. No one knew what caused it, but at times Celebrian was said to have  
had visions of things that were to come, much as her mother could look into  
her mirror and see things. Her visions were not always true, since the power  
was not as strong in her as it was in Galadriel, but later Arwen learned that  
her mother had had one not long before she died. Her own theory was that her  
mother had somehow known what terror was to befall Middle-earth and the   
thought of what wouldhappen to her people and how she would be powerless to   
stop it caused her depression.   
  
Running her pale fingers through a few strands of hair she thought to   
herself, 'And now I shall never know.'  
  
She turned, and her attention was once again caught by the package that the   
boy had given her. Walking over, she picked it up, noticing how light it was.   
Slowly she undid the wrapping and lifted put its contents.  
  
'Where could they have found a thing such as this?' she wondered in amazement  
as she held up the dress. Made of an almost elven-like materialthat she had   
not seen in decades, it was a shimmering white with sparkling gold embroidery   
around the edge of the sleeves and across the chest. Leaves resembling those   
of the mallorn trees of Lothlorien were etched into the fabric, leading Arwen   
to believe that the maker had purposefully tried to copy an elven style.   
  
Slipping into the dress, she looked into one of the many mirrors in the room.  
Her own reflection was startling. The dress fit in all the right places,   
showing off the curves of her body, and was tight but not uncomfortably so.   
The neck dipped low in a v-shape, ending before it would come under the   
classification of being 'too low'. The sleeves were close until they reached  
the elbow where they were cut, allowing them to fall off if she lifted her  
arm. The skirt barely reached the floor, merely brushing against it when she  
moved. A sash of light gold was around the waist, its color matching the   
embroidered thread. Her hair hung in light waves all around her, forming what  
her father had called a halo. Her mother had kept her hair like this,   
though it was golden and not dark like Arwen and her father's.   
  
'I almost feel as if I am home,' she thought to herself as a sense of peace  
washed over her. Breathing deep, she could almost smell the forests of   
Rivendell that she had played in as a child.   
  
Her hand reached up to her neck, groping for something that was had not been   
there in many years. 'If only...'   
  
With one last glance to the mirror she walked out of the room, carrying the   
various cloths she had used. Looking around, she searched for somewhere to put   
them. A servant who was passing saw what she was doing and quickly said,   
"Here my lady, let me take those for you." With a smile and a slight curtsy  
the girl left, leaving a stunned elf behind.   
  
'My lady? Does she not see what I am? What game are they intent on playing?'  
  
Following Aragorn's instructions, she made her way to the library, finding   
the door closed. She heard voices on the other side, one of them mentioning   
her name. Preparing herself for the worst, she knocked and waiting for a   
moment after, pushed the heavy door open.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, I know, horrible place to stop, but if I continued on from here  
I'd never get this chapter posted. The next one might end up being short, or  
the longest one yet, but I didn't want to make you guys wait for too long.   
LOL. Aren't I sweet? Anywayz, this is pretty much just a lil backstory  
chapter, giving you a glimpse at what Arwen's been through and let you  
know some of the many changes I've made to the history. I truly didn't intend  
for the changes to be so massive and complex, but once I get started, you   
can't stop it.   
  
The next chapter should be up soon, at least that's what I hope. You never  
know. Till next time!!!  
  
  
Nathronoelei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
March 30, 2002  
  
P.S. If you are a fan of Arwen/Aragorn romance fics, you might want to take  
a look at a short (I mean SHORT) lil fic I just posted. It's called "Lessons"  
and they may be a lil OOC, but I tried my hardest. You get to see another  
side of them I guess. 


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I, sadly, can claim nothing other than the creativity that I put   
into this and any original characters that may emerge. The rest of   
Middle-earth and its inhabitants belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and associates.  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they   
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
A/N: Elvish words are in - -, and translations will be posted at the end of   
the chapter. However, my resources are rather limited, so if I cannot find   
the Elvish words for something, I'll just put the entire phrase in * *.   
  
  
Companions  
Chapter Four  
  
  
A startled look passed over the two men's faces, replaced moments later by   
amazement.   
  
"My dear, you look wonderful!" Lord Rekland exclaimed, standing and walking   
towards her. Young Aragorn sat still, gazing in awe at the beauty before him.  
  
As her new master moved forward, Arwen took three steps toward him and then   
dropped to her knees. "I am sorry for my intrusion, my master, but I was   
instructed to come here directly. Forgive me," she murmered, lowering her   
head and staring at the floor. "I am yours to command, Master."  
  
Aragorn rose suddenly and strode across the room. He knelt before Arwen and   
his hand moved to her face. She flinched as he placed his fingertips under   
her chin, slowly raising her face so she was forced to look at him. When her  
eyes met his, she felt as if he were trying to see into her soul.   
  
"Such pain has been forced upon you, who are so innocent."  
  
His whisper echoed through her mind, as did the words of her dozens of   
previous masters. She heard once again their proclamations of her   
unworthiness, of how she deserved the pain she received. Her thoughts drifted   
to her father and the encouragement and praise he had given her as a child,   
as well as love, and then the thoughts took a startling turn. Flashes of her  
defense training whipped through her mind, followed closely by the day of her  
capture. She lingered on the thought of the people that had died, especially   
those by her hand.   
  
"*I am no more innocent than you are guilty,* -nin herdir-."  
  
Though he did not understand the meaning of the words, he felt the sorrow   
that was laced around the peaceful sounding lanuage. He could not begin to  
imagine the horrors this magnificent creature had faced in her long life.  
  
Suddenly his mind became that of a healers and his concern of her health once  
again surfaced. Skilled grey eyes danced across her face, finally noticing   
the light bruises on the sides. Many slave owners tried not to mark their   
elves in any visible are right before selling them. It tended to make the   
buyers assume that the slave was a troublemaker and often received   
punishment. Though, judging by what he had seen of Herresh, it must have been  
quite a challenge.   
  
Aragorn softly touched one of the darker bruises. When his fingers met skin  
her body tensed as a shock of pain swept through her. He pulled back, but   
moments later moved his hands to her arms as he stood, lifting her up with   
him.   
  
"Come. We need to see what sort of dammage that abomination of a man caused.  
Will you permit my father to examine you? I am afraid that we had not thought   
to call a woman healer until after you arrived," he asked as he walked her to   
the door, his father following. Arwen bowed her head, eyes once again finding   
their way to the floor, and nodded quickly. In truth, she did not want to   
agree, she was afraid they would harm her even more during this "examination"   
that she felt must have ulterior motives, but knew that she would be punished   
if she did not allow them to do as they pleased.   
  
The two men led her through the outer part of their home to the center, where  
the haeling room was. A rather large room, it contained all their tools and  
medicines, and a bed was set up against the side wall. With his arm, Lord  
Rekland gestured for Arwen to go to it as he and his son went to the other   
side of the room and talked quietly. Her great hearing ability allowed her to  
know only that they were speaking of her, a fact she already knew.   
  
Hesitantly, she sat upon the edge, watching with weary eyes as they   
conversed. When they had stopped, Aragorn left the room, closing the wooden   
door after him. Arwen quickly focused her attention on her new master,   
paying great attention to any instructions he might give her.   
  
To Rekland, her manner reminded him of that of a small child who had just   
been scolded by a parent and wished to dissapear, which he was sure was true.  
Touching her shoulder lightly he told her, "My dear girl, I am not going to   
hurt you. In fact, I intend to help you. I know what sort of man Herresh can  
be, and I am sure that he proved himself to be worse to you than my lowest  
standards of men. I am truly sorry for the way you have been treated, and   
wish that I could change the way things are. Please, let me help you."  
  
She nodded and he patted her arm lightly. "Good girl. Now, lie down and let   
me have a look at you back, alright?"  
  
Moving slowly, she did as told. With quick movements, Rekland unbuttoned the  
back of the dress, and after taking a breath to prepare himself for what he   
was about to see, he parted the equisite fabric.   
  
Strewn across her pale flesh was a maze of long scars, the kind a whip left,  
and he did not doubt that was a favorite tool of her old her former master.   
Many of the scars were old, but there quite a few that were a fresh pink,   
most still covered with the remains of a coating of blood. Shaking his head  
at the sight before him, Rekland dipped a small cloth in a bowl of water that  
sat on a table beside the bed. He gently wiped the damp material across of   
the marks and immediately heard a gasp emmerge from the woman. Repeating the   
movement he felt her slender body shudder as waves of pain washed over her.   
As he continued cleaning the wounds, many opened and began bleeding,   
increasing the intense pain that flooded her senses. After just a few minutes  
it was too much for her and she slipped into peaceful oblivion.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: For all of you out there who are wondering just when and how Legolas   
will be making his grand entrance, you answer is: SOON. Like in the next few   
chapters soon. How does that sound to you?  
  
  
  
Nathronoelei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
May 4, 2002 


	6. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I, sadly, can claim nothing other than the creativity that I put   
into this and any original characters that may emerge. The rest of   
Middle-earth and its inhabitants belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and associates.  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they   
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
A/N: Elvish words are in - -, and translations will be posted at the end of   
the chapter. However, my resources are rather limited, so if I cannot find   
the Elvish words for something, I'll just put the entire phrase in * *.   
  
  
  
Companions  
Chapter Five  
  
Thunder crashed as rain streamed down from the darkened sky. Moments later a   
flash of lightning filled the air, outlining figures engaged in fierce   
battle. Swords met as arrows flew, messengers to the hatred possessed by the   
two peoples.   
  
As the wind blew harder, strengthening its harsh grip around them, four of   
these figures met together, a sense of great urgency surrounding them.  
  
"We must separate. If we do so, we may have a better hope of escape."  
  
"You are right, -nin ion-. Legolas, go with Elrohir. Elladan, you shall come   
with me. Tell whoever you may come across where the next meeting shall take   
place. If you are not there, we will leave word in some way."  
  
Shouting bled through the heavy rain, alerting them that their enemy was   
near.   
  
Grabbing Elladan's shoulder, Elrond said to the other two elven men, "Go!"  
  
Without a moment of hesitation Legolas sprang forward, pulling his companion  
along beside him. They ran for what seemed like hours, defeating what enemies  
they faced, and not until later did they realize how badly injured the son  
of Elrond was.   
  
Blood flowed freely from a deep cut in his side. They had to stop running so   
Legolas could bind the wound with strips of cloth from his already torn  
tunic. His concentration was focused solely on helping his friend, and he   
did not hear the Men that had begun to surround them. Elrohir, however, did.  
  
"Legolas." The Prince looked up, meeting his friend's gaze.   
  
"Legolas, you must promise me something." The elf's breathing was labored,   
his body suffering from exhaustion and lack of blood.   
  
"I will do whatever you ask of me, -nin mellon-."   
  
He looked down as he felt something cool pressed into his palm. "Find her, I  
beg of you, and keep this safe until you do. She is the light of our people.  
We find her and we find true hope once more. Promise me."  
  
The Men were moving closer with each passing second, creating a circle   
around the two elves.  
  
Taking the dying elve's hand, the Prince made his vow. "As long as I am   
alive, I shall search for your sister and keep her symbol safe. I promise you   
this. I will find the Evenstar."  
  
He did not hear the words his friend had begun to utter for one of the enemy   
had at last reached him. The man struck out at him, leaving the elf swimming   
in a sea of blackness.  
  
  
  
  
  
nin ion = my son  
nin mellon = my friend  
  
Nathronoelei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
May 18, 2002  
  
  
A/N: Only four more days of school, and then summer begins! I hope you all   
know what that means: more writing time for the busy author. YAY! I've missed  
having all that time to write.   
  
Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, and I admit it isn't one of my best.   
I was kind of in a rush when I wrote this, so it turned out feeling rather  
rushed. LOL. I'll probably go back and write this over later.   
  
So, Legolas has entered. And, unless you haven't read the summary, you must   
realize that he joins up with the rest of the group at some point. Hmm, I   
wonder how they'll meet... Any guesses?  
  
Also, anyone wish to guess at what Elrohir gave him? Pretty simple I know,  
but still. I'm in the mood for a guessing game.   
(Hint: I've mentioned it before, in an off way.)  
  
Till next time! 


	7. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Um, let me check... Nope, I don't own one of the greatest stories  
ever created. =( Poor me. (LOL)  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they   
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
A/N: Elvish words are in - -, and translations will be posted at the end of   
the chapter. However, my resources are rather limited, so if I cannot find   
the Elvish words for something, I'll just put the entire phrase in * *.   
  
  
Companions   
Chapter Six  
  
Arwen woke to the sensation of a light caress against her cheek, leaving only   
a faint sheen where a tear had been.  
  
Aragorn pulled his hand back as he saw the elven wpman opened her eyes. He   
had heard that elves slept with their eyes open, yet she did not. He would   
have to ask her about it later. For now, he had other concerns.  
  
"You wept in your sleep, crying out at times. Are you still in great pain?"  
  
Arwen could scarcely believe the situation she was faced with. Her new   
masters were both healers, probably thought to be greatly skilled by both   
themselves and others. She would not dare tell them that she in fact felt   
worse than before, and that they had most likely caused more damage than  
healed.   
  
Shaking her head, she told him, "Nay, Master! I shall be fine. Please, I beg  
thee do not trouble yourself, for I am not worth the concern."  
  
"Trouble myself? Not worth..." Aragorm could hardly contain his rage at the  
many people who had hurt this beautiful woman that deserved to be cherished,  
not tortured. She looked as if she felt she needed permission to merely   
breathe.   
  
Seeing the rage that played its way across his face, she tried to sit up,   
wanting to move to the ground so she could kneel before him and beg   
forgiveness for any offense she may have caused him. However, with every inch  
of movement her muscles screamed in pain. Hot fire shot through her body,   
culminating in a powerful explosion in the back of her head. Through the   
flames she managed to choke out, "I'm sorry, Master, if I have offended you   
in some way. Please, I beg your forgiveness."   
  
Aragorn quickly shot forward, lightly pushing her back into the bed. She   
flinched as he touched her, a gasp flowing from her lips as his strong hands  
wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her still.   
  
"Lady Arwen, do not move! You have not the strength for such physical   
activity. Please, lie still while I fetch something for your pain."  
  
As he moved out of her vision, which was at the moment rather blurred, she   
wondered again at why they were addressing her as "Lady". It must be some   
game they played, fooling their slaves into thinking they were more than just  
that, and then throwing away every dream of freedom that resulted. Oh, how  
she wished to be free, to feel the sun's warm rays upon her skin, and dance  
under the light of the stars with her father and brothers as they has before.  
  
Suddenly a thought burst into her mind. The sun! That was what was causing  
this extreme pain, where before she had always healed from the beatings. On  
the way here, she had been exposed to the wonderful light of the bright star,  
but only for a short time, certainly not enough to make up for the decades   
she had been away from it.   
  
She closed her eyes, thinking back to the light touch of warmth she had felt,  
only to cry out again as another wave of pain crashed down on her. So that   
was it. Her body was punishing her for not giving it what it needed to   
survive. It had been this way the last time she had changed masters, though  
nowhere near as bad. She didn't understand how she had survived without the  
beauty of the stars, or why this was happening now, but she knew that she   
must be strong and push the pain aside so as not to be punished.  
  
Aragorn heard her small cry from across the room, and he hurried to finish   
the mixtures. Drinking a tea of rosewood would help sleep come more easily,  
while breathing the steam of a kingsfoil solution would help ease the pain.   
  
Rushing back to her side, he watched as Arwen drank the warm tea and began to   
breathe more deeply. Within minutes she was resting soundly, though her   
features were still contorted with pain. A burst of shock swept over him as  
he finally realized that there was nothing more that he or his father could   
do. They were basically useless to the poor suffering woman, and would need  
to find someone else who could help her. But who...  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Well, I'm sure glad this is finished. For some reason, I had trouble   
writing this chapter, and got so fed up with it that I started writing the   
next one, which stars LEGOLAS! I thought you all might enjoy that. Hopefully  
it will help make up for the sudden shortness of my chapters, along with   
their infrequent updates. Sorry again guys. I've been kinda busy lately, but   
I have been working.   
  
Okay, I had this lil idea a few days ago. I have an online diary, I know a   
lot of people do, but since nobody really cares what goes on in my boring   
life (plus I write in a regular journal as it is), I have decided to use it  
as a sort of update board. I'll put up various thoughts about stories that I  
have, any new chapter info, and all that good stuff in my entries. This way,  
you guys can go and see if I've been the good little writer and worked on the  
story you want me to. I may also put up excepts from different chapters, the  
ones that I have finished and on the site as well as ones that I haven't   
quite completed yet. Sound good? Anywayz, I'll be putting the address up on  
my bio page, in case any of you are halfway interested, k? (All entries that  
pertain to anything fanfictiony will have a * at the beginning or something  
about it in the title.)  
  
Till next time!  
  
  
Nathronoelei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
June 10, 2002  
  
P.S. If there are any Star Wars fans out there, you should be celebrating!  
Natalie Portman (Padmé Amidala) turned 21 yesterday! As she put it:   
"I'm looking forward to tasting alcohol." LOL.   
  
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NATALIE!!! 


	8. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: Um, let me check... Nope, I don't own one of the greatest stories  
ever created. =( Poor me. (LOL)  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they   
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
A/N: Elvish words are in - -, and translations will be posted at the end of   
the chapter. However, my resources are rather limited, so if I cannot find   
the Elvish words for something, I'll just put the entire phrase in * *.   
  
  
Companions  
Chapter Seven  
  
Legolas stood in the rickety wagon, grumbling soundlessly to himself as he   
once again tried to break free from the chains that held him and once again   
failed. Sighing, he let his hands fall to his sides, hearing the ring as the  
links of the chain struck one another. It seemed almost hopeless.   
  
Two weeks had passed since his capture, and during that time he had been   
passed along from one slave dealer to another. Nobody had seemed to show any  
interest in "purchasing" him, using such excuses as "He looks too fierce, I  
have children to think of!" or "I do not have the time to break another   
slave," and had moved onto the next poor soul. These acts disgusted the   
Prince of Mirkwood and he tried daily for escape. However, luck was seemingly  
not with him at present time, seeing as he was still being sold as a slave.  
  
Most of his kind were "slaves" to the Men who had destroyed their homes and   
their lives. It was hard for him to understand how such a great race as the   
Eldar had come to this. In the beginning they had no reason to suspect an   
attack from their neighboors in the land of men, and therefore had been over-  
taken easily, but still, would not somebody have had the thought to fight  
back? The idea of living as they had been intended to; in peace with the   
other inhabitants of Middle-earth, and at peace with the world around them.  
  
Once again a soft sigh escaped from between his lips as he began to realize   
how hopeless everything seemed. His people, what few of them were still free,  
were no longer what they had once been. The inner light that all of elven   
blood possessed had greatly dimmed, devoured by the dark shadow that had   
swiftly crept across the land so long ago. Thinking back on it, he realized   
that they had been losing hope from the very beginning, when the great army  
had descended upon Lothlorien. Though the ruling Lord and Lady had barely   
escaped with their lives, they had gone on to gather together the remaining   
elven forces. The turning point for the elven race has not been seeing the   
Lady Galadriel so close to death, it had been when her granddaughter had been  
taken. Undomiel had truly been the evenstar of her people, bringing then   
peace and joy with her prescence. She reminded them of a time without   
troubles, a time that was long past when the land was new and had not seen   
bloodshed. When she was taken, the days seemed less bright, the stars didn't   
shine as they had, and life had lost its wonder.   
  
Elrond had been certain all these years that his daughter was alive, though  
there was little evidence to prove his belief. Following their father's   
lead, Elrohir and Elladan, her older twin brothers, had kept up a constant   
search for their sister, using all resources to learn information of her   
whereabouts, as well as the location of many other elves that had been   
captured. The rest of her family helped as well, keeping track of everything  
they gathered so that when the time came, they could set their people free.   
  
He had been part of that search from its very creation, helping in any way he  
could, for he too had been touched by these horrible events. As a child, he   
and Arwen had been the best of friends, staying in close contact through the   
years and taking every opportunity to meet. When he heard of her capture, he   
had run to his father, pleading with him to send their army after those who   
had harmed their friends. Readily agreeing, his father had gathered their   
forces, feeling a great pride for the way his son had handled the situation.  
However, it was not to be for soon after they found themselves in the midst   
of a horrible battle that lasted longer than any could remember.   
  
Slowly reaching down, making the movements seem casual so as not to be   
noticed by the guards, he felt where he had hidden the necklace. If it had   
not been for the slight weight against his leg, he would never have known it  
was there. A special pocket had been designed so that he could store things  
like small knives without them being found. A light padding was placed around  
the pocket to make up for lack of fabric, concealing the pocket completely.  
If one didn't know where to look, nothing short of ripping the pants to   
shreds would reveal the hidden treasure, and for that he was thankful. He   
knew that all these years of living as a slave would have some effect of the  
fair lady, and the last thing he would want to happen was him losing the one  
object that could bring her the strength to go on.   
  
Just the thought of what had most likely been done to her sent chills up his  
spine, but he knew that if anyone could survive such an ordeal, it was  
Undomiel, for her spirit was that of a star that never fades.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to finally get this chapter   
out. I was busy working on my Anita Blake fanfiction (if there are any fans  
of Asher reading this, you may want to check out my story Mon Ange, staring   
the golden-haired one himself) as well as my original fairy tale like story  
Angelas (once again, anyone who enjoys a good romance story set upon a   
fantasy background, I would love to know what you think.)  
  
I'm also sorry about the shortness of this chapter. The next part is going to  
be rather lengthy, or at least that's what I'm planning, but I thought I'd be  
nice to all my readers and give them this little bit. Let em know I haven't  
forgotten them.   
  
Thank you to everyone who has given me their support on this project, it   
means the world to me. *bows in gratitude*  
  
Nathronoelei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
August 1, 2002 


	9. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: Don't own the story, but am hoping to own the extended version   
DVD soon!!!  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they  
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
A/N: And I'm BACK after a month of absence from the land of Middle-earth. So  
sorry it took so long. But, what with the release of the extended version of  
the movie (which I have yet to see.... anyone know a quick, legal way to make  
money? I can't get a job.... grrr...) I've been in the mood to write LotR all  
week! Get ready for some chapters, because as soon as I see that movie (that  
I believe has more Arwen/Aragorn scenes in it... anyone confirm/deny?) I   
can assure you that I'll be majorly inspired! And now, the moment you've all  
been waiting for......  
  
(du du dun!)  
  
Companions  
Chapter Eight  
  
A young Aragorn silently paced across the floor of the library as he thought  
the situation through. Normally he would have gone outside to the spacious  
gardens to think, but he wanted to be close to the healing rooms in case the  
lady had some need of him.   
  
The Lady Arwen. The title fit her better than a glove fit a hand, and he   
instinctively knew she had been someone important in elven society. While  
her actions gave no clue to this, there was something about her, something   
his heart reacted to when she was near. Never before had he felt things like  
this, and in a way it frightened him. He had met the woman naught a week ago,  
and these emotions had come along so suddenly...  
  
The door swung open, revealing his father in the hall. Lord Rekland entered,  
uncharacteristly leaving the door ajar. This small change in mannerisms let  
Aragorn know that he father was ill at ease. But about what?  
  
The lord walked over to the glass window covered in soft frost from the   
unusual chill that evening. Tracing his fingers along the edge, he watched   
as tiny streaks were made in the crystals as they melted from the warmth of  
his skin.   
  
"Aragorn," he said, finally addressing the other man in the room, "I had   
hoped that you would never have the need to experience the evils of this   
world, but the time has come where that cannot be avoided."  
  
"Father?" What was he talking about? Confusion wrote itself upon the young  
man's face as he waited for the answer to be given.  
  
"You must go to the elf slave markets."  
  
Shock was the only word to describe the reaction Rekland's words had on him.  
His father hated the slave markets with a burning passion! Why would he want  
his son to purposefully go to them?  
  
Seemingly reading the thoughts, the lord answered, "You must go to the   
markets because Lady Arwen can only be saved by one of her own kind. They   
have knowledge that we do not, and will surely know what ails her. You must  
go and find someone with knowledge of the healing arts."  
  
"Are you sure about this? What of the reactions of the local people? They   
will not hesitate to approach you now, since you will have slaves in your   
possession where you had detested the thought before. You do realize what   
you will be forced to endure for the rest of your days?"  
  
Lord Rekland turned sad, dark eyes to the man he called his son. If only it  
were true... No. Aragorn must not know of his true past, not yet. The time  
would come when he was ready to face his destiny, but this was not it.   
  
"If we do not act quickly, Aragorn, she shall die. Too much strain has been  
put on her body over the years. It is a wonder she has survived this long   
and still kept her mind in one piece, as well as retained her language. Most  
slave owners do not permit the elves to speak their own language, nor are  
they allowed out of their homes. I do not understand the reason behind it,   
and I doubt any of the others do. It has been a sort of tradition, passed  
down through the generations, and I believe it is this which has caused her  
illness, or at least something related to what has happened to her. If we do  
not help her, our hope of restoring the elven race will be destroyed."  
  
There was a pause in his speech, as if he had to decide whether to say the   
following. "If there were another way, believe me, I would stop at nothing   
for it. But my thoughts have only led to this solution, no other. I hope you  
understand."  
  
"Of course! I only wanted to be sure that you knew the troubles you would   
face in reaction to this decision.   
  
"I have no disagreement with going to the slave markets if it will be the   
survival of the Lady. When shall I go?"  
  
An air of determination settled around Aragorn as he readied himself for the  
task ahead. "You will depart tomorrow. I'll go over what you should say to  
ensure you are not discovered before you leave. For now, I think it is time  
to check on Lady Arwen."  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: It's short, I know. But short is better than not at all, don't you   
agree?   
  
If my inspiration holds up, I hope to start the next chapter tonight, and   
possibly the next chapter for "I Peleth Gail o Undomiel" later tonight as   
well. It all depends upon timing.   
  
Until next time!  
  
  
Nathronoelei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
November 14, 2002 


	10. Chapter Nine Part One

Disclaimer: Don't own the story, but am hoping to own the extended version   
DVD soon!!! I just got a job, so there's actually a chance of that happening!  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves,   
one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as they  
truly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
A/N: And here it is, what you've all been waiting for! LOL.   
I wanna thank elvinprincess for helping force this outta me! I couldn't have  
done it without you, and credit much of this to you!   
  
  
Companions  
Chapter Nine  
  
It was nearly a three hours' ride to the nearest town that played host to the  
travelling slave traders. No others could be found along the rode Aragorn   
took, so the trip was silent except for the natural sounds and soft thud of   
his horse's hooves against the ground.   
  
With nothing else to occupy his thoughts, the young man began recalling the   
various conversations he had held with the elven lady. She had become too   
weak to leave her bed, so they had placed her in a room at the center of the   
house, where she could be heard easily were she to call out for one of them.  
It was a spacious room, with a great fireplace to help keep the area warm. No  
windows were in the room, another reason they had put her there. Light seemed  
to bother her, so only a small number of candles were used to light the room,  
casting great shadows into every corner. Yet, she seemed not to mind that. As  
she put it, "Darkness is no stranger in my life. I have faced it many times,  
and still I am here before you."  
  
He could list a hundred times when she had made reference to her past, and   
each was more shrouded in mystery than the one before. She would tell him of  
the history of Middle-earth, things never mentioned in the books written by  
Men of recent years, for they all included the elves; if ever he had heard   
it, the version was twisted to make her race seem like terrible creatures who  
were feared by all. As she told it, Men and Elves were companions in life,   
helping each other through hardships and celebrating each other's successes.   
  
That was, until a group of Men took matters into their own hands. They felt   
the Elves were too proud, too powerful to remain as they were. So, they   
destroyed the cities the elven people had built long ago and sculpted into   
beauty, never once taking into consideration that the elves had always made   
it known that members of all races were welcome in their homes, so long as   
their intentions were not of ill will.  
  
Aragorn remembered every word she spoke, and after thinking over them, he   
realized she had never once mentioned her family or their position in all of  
this. It made him wonder; was it just too painful for her to speak of people  
she loved but had not seen for years, or was there something about them she  
did not wish for others to know? If so, what was it?  
  
One of their earlier conversations leapt into his mind, taking him back to   
that day not too long ago...  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
It was late morning when Aragorn arrived at Arwen's bedchamber, carrying a   
tray of light food and fresh water. She had been unable to eat much at all   
since the onset of this illness, but both he and his father persisted in   
their efforts of getting her to eat at least a little.  
  
He knocked softly on the elegant wooden door to her chamber, not knowing if   
she was awake. Not hearing any response, he opened the door slightly,   
tentatively calling out, "Lady Arwen?"  
  
In the dim light provided by the fire across the room, which they had finally  
convinced her to allow them to light (she had protested that she did not need  
it, nor was she worth the firewood that would be used), Aragorn could see a   
faint outline of a figure in the bed. Stepping closer, trying his hardest to  
be completely silent (and failing miserably), he saw that she appeared to be  
sleeping peacefully. Her long dark hair fanned out against the white bedding,  
causing her pale skin to seem even more so.   
  
He moved past slowly, walking carefully towards the small table next to the   
bed. Setting the tray down, he winced at the "click" it made, praying she had  
not noticed it. His prayers were not answered.   
  
A soft moan escaped her lips as she drifted back from slumber, feeling the   
cold aching in her old bones. She had found that in the days since she had   
arrived at her master's home she had begun to feel her age, a thing that   
elves were not supposed to suffer through, at least not until it was their   
time to sail to the Undying Lands. For it to occur any earlier would risk   
that person's sanity, as well as their sanity.  
  
It was just another thing to add to her growing list of problems...  
  
Movement caught her eye, and she turned her head to see the younger of  
her masters standing by her bedside. Holding back a grimace as she quickly  
pulled herself into a sitting position, she stopped the instinctive action to  
bow. Both Men had expressed that they did not wish her to do to them,   
that she was not their slave, merely a guest in their home. That recent   
statement had nearly been her downfall... How could she not have hope   
when she had apparently been set free from her life as another person's  
property?   
  
Because it had happened to her before. Decades before, one of her master's  
had decided to trick a few of his slaves, herself included, into thinking   
theywere free. They had prepared to leave, wishing to return to their   
homelands and the other elves they knew ere out there somewhere. However,   
before they had even made it off the property, they were confronted by the   
guards, accused of trying to escape, and dragged back to the house, where   
they were met with the evil laugh that belonged to only their master. That   
night was one of the most horrible she had experienced, filled with pain and   
blood...  
  
"How are you today?" His tone was so sincere, she had a difficult time   
finding the strength to doubt him. She watched as he pulled a chair from  
the larger table across the room and sat beside her.   
  
"I am better than yesterday. I feel more than strong enough to do work."  
In truth she was still weak, terribly so, and she wasn't even sure she   
could walk, let alone spend hours working, but she was not about to   
admit that her masters' healing skills had accomplished nothing. She   
had learned in the past that you never tell your master when they have  
done something wrong.   
  
Aragorn murmured quietly to himself, studying her features before   
replying, "You may be, but I still think you should rest. Besides,   
have we not already told you that you are indeed a guest in this house,  
and therefore not required to work?"  
  
Her eyes were on her hands as she spoke. "Yes, my lord, you have. I   
just wish to repay you for your generous hospitality." Arwen chose  
her words carefully, praying they would not offend him.  
  
The Man forced himself to take deep, calming breaths. He wanted to   
reach out and shake this woman! She just didn't seem to understand   
that they had truly set her free, that she was no longer a slave! It   
was as if all those filthy vermin who had dared to believe they could   
own another life had erased all her free will and left her with this...   
shell of a being. If only he could find some way to break though that   
barrier...  
  
"No payment is needed, my Lady, nor is one wished for. My father   
and I are only doing what is right. Now, I brought this for you." He   
gestured towards the tray of food, asking, "Are you hungry?"   
  
A slight nod, and the next thing she knew the tray had been   
expertly positioned within her reach. It balanced across her lap,   
short legs coming out from the bottom to rest of either side of   
her, bringing it close enough to where she would not have to bend   
over complely to reach the food.   
  
Aragorn stood from his chair. "If you do not object, my Lady, I   
would dine with you, for I myself have not eaten yet this day."  
  
Gripping the edges of the tray lightly so it would slip, she sat up   
straighter. "I would never object to your companionship, my Lord.  
I would be a fool to do so."  
  
With a quick bow of the head and a promise to return momentarily,  
he strode out of the room. Walking briskly to the kitchens, he bade  
the cook prepare another tray, knowing the older woman would   
skin him alive should he try to do so himself.   
  
"How fares the Lady Elf?"   
  
He watched her quickly arrange a meal fit for kings on the small   
tray, answering, "She claims to be well, though her looks betray  
her. If anything she has is worse than before."   
  
Handing the tray to the younger master of the house, she informed   
him, "All of us servants worry for 'er. She seems so sad. You would   
think she would be 'appy, finally bein' free 'nd all."  
  
"She has yet to believe either my father or myself on that. I think   
she has been tricked with such in the past, and is fearful of   
trusting again. However, we hope to remedy that soon. Thank   
you for the tray." With that he exited the warm room that always  
smelled of fresh bread and other good things. It had always been   
one of his favorite places in the house, even if it often was one of  
the busiest.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Well, I just got to writing, and the next thing I knew this thing was   
pages long! I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer - this chapter  
still has a long ways to go! - so I decided to post it in two parts!   
  
Please review and let me know what you think!  
  
Oh yeah! If you're a fan of Harry Potter fanfiction, and like the   
Hermione/Snape pairing, check out "I Will Remember You" by elvinprincess !   
(you can get to her page through my favorite authors) It promises to be a  
great fic!   
  
Until Next Time! (which should be VERY soon!)  
  
Nathronoelei  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
January 3, 2002 


	11. Chapter Nine Part Two

Disclaimer: Last time I checked, these two great characters weren't mine. (Though I do wish I were in Arwen's place... even with all the stuff I put her through, she ends up with Aragorn... right? *smiles evilly*)  
  
Summary: AU. In a world where elves are hunted by men and taken as slaves, one man must learn to overcome what he has been taught and see things as theytruly are, with the help of two extraordinary people.   
  
Companions  
  
Chapter Nine - Part Two  
  
*  
  
The two ate in near silence, the only sound the clink of plates as each pondered the many questions they had of their companion. Her masters' actionsconfused Arwen greatly, while Aragorn knew there were things about this womanthat she was afraid of them learning, though he knew not why.   
  
"Tell me something of your people. My father takes such joy in their customsand history, but tells me little of them, while others hate all elves, spreading horrid rumors that are too terrible to believe. I am torn betweenthe two. Please, will you help me to understand?" Aragorn looked at her withsuch pleading eyes that she found she could not resist, nor make any attemptto steer the subject from her master's choice.  
  
Looking thoughtful, she was quiet a few moments before answering. "What of our cities? Har far does your knowledge of them extend?"  
  
"Alas my lady, I cannot say I know much. The only information I have is that two lie within forests, each near opposite ends of the Misty Mountains, and athird supposedly lies hidden somewhere to the north."  
  
A wistful smile crossed her face as she took in his words. "You are correct in you statement. There are three elven cities, with smaller settlements scattered nearby... Though I suppose they no longer stand. They were Mirkwood, Lothlorien, and Rivendell."  
  
Memories of her capture crept out from the corners she had hidden them in, and a few silent tears slid down her cheeks. Yet, when she continued, her voice was as calm and smooth as always.  
  
"The city to the north of the Misty Mountains was Mirkwood, formerly known as Greenwood the Great."  
  
Eager to learn more, and feeling encouraged by her use of words, he could not help interrupting. "Forgive my interruption, my lady, but might I ask why the name changed?"  
  
"There is nothing to forgive, my lord. Questions are a natural part of learning."  
  
The smile that quickly formed upon his lips forced her to continue, thoughher heart was beginning to feel the seering pain of remembrance. "The forestwas called Mirkwood due to the evils that has taken residence there. Giant spiders, wolves, goblins, and other creatures of the like infested itsborders, though I do not know if such is still the case. It has been a greatmany years since last I visited."   
  
She looked to him, asking, "Do you wish to know of the people there as well?"  
  
"Yes, please! Anything you wish to tell me, I will gladly listen to."  
  
A soft sigh filled the air. As her master, she was required to tell him whathe wished to know, but that did not mean that she had to tell him everything.As he had just stated, she must tell him 'anything she wished', not everything she knew. Arwen was determined not to divulge information concerning her family, or their posistion in the elven world. Who knew what would happen if Men discovered her identity, which had been the only thingshe withheld all these long years, forcing what little will remained to holdto the promise she made to herself when she was taken. She would not lead them to those she loved.  
  
"The land of Mirkwood was best known for its warriors. They were often trained since childhood in the art of the bow. They were also taught to wieldknives, possessing great skill with both weapons, but those that learned thesword were few and far between.   
  
"Also, the people there knew of the many uses for common plants and herbs, the sort found in most general areas. Because there were so many threatening,possibly poisonous creatures near their home, dozens, if not hundreds of antidotes and rememdies were created over the years, all easily and quicklymade, no matter the maker's skill. The elves of Mirkwood were quite proud ofthis accomplishment," she said with a small amused smile.  
  
"To the south of the mountains lies Lothlorien, the Golden Wood. The mallorntrees grow there, the most beautiful and strong of all trees in Middle-earth.It was in the trees of this wood that my people lived, building talans upon the strong branches.   
  
"The ruler of Lorien was the Lady of Light, a wonderful woman was cherished by all who set eyes upon her. She was a just ruler, a very kind woman, but to some of the outside world she was seen as a... witch because of her abilities. She was a healer beyond healers, one of the greatest in history. If one had an illness that could not be cured, they were sent to the Lady, who helped all who asked it as best she could.  
  
"The warriors of Lothlorien were much like those of Mirkwood, relying heavily upon use of the bow. However, instead of using knies they prefered their elven swords, which they used with deadly accuracy."  
  
"What of the third city? What was it called... Riverdale?"  
  
His false guess made her have the urge to laugh, but she could never laugh ather master's expense. The consequences of such an action with past masters had been... unforgettable.  
  
"Rivendell, my lord. It was known as the Last Homely House, a haven for all who were against evil and sought shelter, rest, comfort, no matter which racethey belonged to.  
  
"Rivendell was governed by a half-elven lord who married Lady Galadriel's daughter."  
  
Again, Aragorn interrupted. "Galadriel? From Lothlorien?"  
  
She nodded silently. "Yes, the same. With this union the two lands had an unbreakable bond, resulting in them being quite similar in some ways, though just as different in many others.  
  
"The hidden city was known for the arts. Musicians, painters, poets, artists of all sorts journeyed to the city to both gain inspiration for their art from the beautiful landscape, and to experience the warm hospitality of the Lord of Rivendell.  
  
"The Lord was a great healer, bested only by Lady Galadriel. He was the kindest person I have ever met; all those in Rivendell welcomed visitors with open arms, eager to hear of the world around them. If anything, elves cherish knowledge above all else."  
  
A look she could not decipher passed across his face, and for a moment she felt fear course through her body. Had she said something wrong?  
  
His words were unexpected. Maybe there was more to this man than she thought.  
  
"In that way we are the same."  
  
***  
  
Aragorn's thougths drifted to other conversations, passing the hours so quickly he almost missed the town entirely.   
  
Speaking with local merchants he learned that a new "shipment" of slaves was due in the next day, and that supposedly they had a few "fiesty ones" in the group.   
  
The man felt a spark of hope when he heard this. If possible, he hoped to find one of those who had not yet been broken, for maybe then they would remember some way to save Arwen.   
  
He prayed to any god listening that he would have the strength to make it through the next day. He had to be strong.   
  
For Arwen.  
  
********  
  
A/N: I would like to send a huge shout of thanks to elvenprincess, who helpedme come up with some of the ideas for this chapter. She graciously let me bounce them off of her, while throwing in some of her own (though I have to confess that I was stupid and did not save the notes as I had planned - resulting in the present fact that I can't remember some of what she said!*smacks self on head* ooowwwww.....)  
  
Also, I am SO SORRY!!! It's been almost six months since my last update. I feel so terrible for keeping you all waiting like this...  
  
My only excuses are: Real life got hold of me and wouldn't let go! I HATE real life! It always gets in the way! Besides, whenever I would try and work on this, something would come up, or my inspiration would suddenly leave this story for another one and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't write anything decent for this one. I will never give you guys anything that could be labeled as "crap".  
  
I hope that with summer vacation being two weeks away, I'll have more time to work on this. I will be getting a part-time job, but that shouldn't hinder this much, if at all.   
  
Thank you all for the support. You guys are the best. I bow to you in gratitude for staying with me through this past year, for joining me on this journey that promises to last for quite a while.   
  
Until next time, when Legolas pops up again! (And wait till you see what he has to say to our favorite king-to-be!)  
  
*  
  
Nathronoelei  
  
"Weaver of Dreams"  
  
May 19, 2003 


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